


for all of the perfect things that i doubt

by handbagmarinara



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: It gets steamy at some point, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 10:26:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9119599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handbagmarinara/pseuds/handbagmarinara
Summary: “So,” Tsukishima started, hands finding solace just above the jut of Kageyama’s hipbones, “Why hide them?”“I…” Kageyama croaked, throat tight at the proximity, “I didn’t want anyone else to see me so naked.” An echo of his mother’s words, words he understood now, anchored down by bright, gold eyes and hands on his clothed skin.orKageyama has purple eyes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Jaymes Young's song, "I'll Be Good."
> 
> Also: This ship needs more material.

There were a few things Tsukishima noticed about Kageyama that, he thinks, has never been noticed by anyone else in the team. It’s not like he asked each member if they _have_ noticed, but more the fact no one has ever acknowledged them.

It’s not like they were things to be embarrassed about anyway, if one were to ask, and really, if he and the King were close, like _Hinata Shouyou_ close, he would have asked him outright.

But Tsukishima has never been one to dig deep into his curiosity to investigate, and was never up to talk to the King first, unless it was to antagonize him.

  
It still nagged at him though, this curiosity of his, and his want to have answers sometimes left him in a state of vulnerability.

  
He has often found himself staring at his notes, and when he comes to, realizes he’s missed what the teacher has written. There were times he got hit in the face by a stray ball during practice while he was resting by the sides (If you asked him if he was staring at a particular setter, he would have denied it instantly). There were those rare times as well; When his room is dark and his thoughts start to fly all over the place— start to make him sweaty, start to turn into fantasies.

  
And—

  
Well.

  
Asking anyone else about these _things_ meant one thing, and that was he looked at Kageyama too much—enough, his stubborn mind supplied— to actually notice them, and that is not something Tsukishima is ready to admit. To anyone, or to himself.

 

 

.

 

 

“Neh, Tsukki.” Yamaguchi called, “Have you noticed anything off about Kageyama lately?”

  
Tsukishima swallowed, fingers clenching around his water bottle.  _‘Have you noticed, too? How his eyes change color? How he never seems to burn under the sun even when we’ve all but collapsed from the heat? Did you—’_

“Tsukki, I think you’re going down with something.” The freckled boy said with a laugh, punching him lightly on the shoulder, “Should I tell Ennoshita-san?”

  
“Shut up, Yamaguchi.” was his dismissive reply to his best friend’s teasing. _Though…_ “What was that about the King?”

  
Yamaguchi looked on at the court, where the setter was bickering with Hinata, as per usual, “Nothing, really. I just noticed how much you’ve been staring at him. I thought you found something amusing.”

  
There he goes again, with the teasing. Tsukishima remembered how it happened. Clearly. How the whole team is convinced he liked Kageyama, or vice-versa, or mutually. It started after that one time Kageyama bumped into the blond when he wasn’t looking, and without even realizing, Tsukishima held onto the brunet’s waist to steady him. It wasn’t awkward at all, and Tsukishima was already letting go when Hinata came out of the club room and saw the scene. It spread to Tanaka, later in the day, who in turn exaggeratedly told to the first years how Tsukishima and Kageyama were almost caught kissing.

  
Tsukishima was quick to deny all of it, because _‘when the hell did I ever_ longingly gaze _at the king?’_ he had said, casting a glare at a cackling Tanaka, but getting back-up from Kageyama was hard when he had just shrugged and said, “It happened, but not like that.”

  
Tsukishima swore he heard the setter snigger into his hand, flashing the blond a devious smirk while the rest of the team ‘ooh’-ed.

  
And though everyone knew it was all just shits and giggles, it still annoyed the hell out of Tsukishima because for once, Kageyama one-upped him.

  
He will never admit that he’s thought of kissing Kageyama, though, and that Kageyama being blasé about the whole thing has been making him go crazy. ( _Hopeful_ , even.)

  
Tsukishima turned his head to Yamaguchi, voice deadpan, and, with the straightest face he can muster, said, “Nothing is ever amusing about the King.”

  
“Not like you’re any better.” Came a voice from behind him. Ah, shit.

  
“Speaking of the devil.” Tsukishima turned his attention to the newcomer, “To what do I owe the honor?”

  
“Cut the shit, Stingyshima. Ennoshita-san asked me to get you.”

Tsukishima sighed. Annoying the King doesn’t work anymore, really. Now that they’re second years, they’ve all grown out of their first year mentality. They’ve learned much more about each other, as much as Tsukishima hated to admit. Sleepovers, spin-the-bottles, and truth or dares—even an incident where Tsukishima almost broke another team member’s nose after speaking ill of _Hinata_ , of all people— all helped them learn just how much the team meant to them, and how there’s a line they’re all willing to cross for anyone. They’re not the strongest, but they’ve become stronger.

  
“What is it now?” Tsukishima asked, running a hand through his hair. He took a quick glance at Ennoshita, who was already instructing everyone to clean-up. There was a hint of mischief in the captain's eyes, but it was gone before Tsukishima can call him out for it.

  
“Tanaka-san lost the gym keys.” Kageyama said, with a pout Tsukishima immediately glued to memory, “Ennoshita-san wanted us to get a spare from Takeda-sensei.”

  
Alright, Tsukishima was used to this. Always running errands with Kageyama. It was one of the perks—drawbacks, _damn it,_ Tsukishima— that stupid story held. Everyone was trying to keep it alive as much as possible.

  
“I don’t see why he wants _both_ of us to get a damn key, and, Takeda-sensei didn't even come to practice today.”

  
“If you let me finish.” Kageyama snapped, pout deepening and really, Tsukishima should not find that endearing. The blond throws his hand in a gesture of ‘go ahead’, “The janitor has the main key. And—”

  
“They want me there in case you mess up. I get it now.” He handed Yamaguchi his towel and bottle, who in turn nudged at his side and wiggled a suggestive eyebrow. Tsukishima silenced him with a glare, and his best friend turned to the court with a giggle.

  
“Yeah. He doesn’t like me very much.”

  
“You and Hinata holding practice so late in the night is literally why he has to stay and lock up after you.”

  
“Shut it, smartass.” Kageyama interjected, a small smile on his face as he lightly pushed Tsukishima at the direction of the door, “Come on, before Captain tells us off.”

  
He didn’t even get to tell Yamaguchi to wait for him, what with Kageyama pulling at him by the wrist.

 

 

. 

 

  
  
Turns out, he didn’t have to, because when they got back, the gym was locked and a note with a _‘Found the keys. Everyone was in a hurry to leave. Sorry for the trouble. We left your stuff in the club room. - Chikara’_ was taped to the door.

  
Tsukishima crumpled the piece of paper in his hand, clicking his tongue. This smelt like bullshit.

  
“They did this on purpose.”

  
“Yeah, no shit, King.” Tsukishima retorted, words holding no bite, “Nice to know you acknowledge the chaos you caused.”

  
Kageyama glared, lacking the ice it usually held. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead turned to the direction of the club room. Tsukishima found some sort of satisfaction knowing he got to piss the setter off. Finally, his revenge for the nonchalance Kageyama held regarding the exaggerated story.

 

The way to the club room had been silent, as it always is with the two of them. But there was something different. There’s _always_ something in the air as days of them alone turned frequent. What Tsukishima once dubbed awkwardness, had turned to something you wouldn’t mind hovering around because it felt… nice.

Today is no different, and if anything, felt more intense. Tsukishima has never put a word on it, this feeling, but it feels so much like Yamaguchi’s bed, or his favorite bakery, or the way he successfully blocks a spike.

  
He chanced a glance Kageyama’s way, who was a good distance away and ahead of him. It’s times like these Tsukishima’s head gets to working, piecing out answers for these little _Kageyama things_ for the umpteenth time. It ends up the same every time. Fruitless.

  
_Because how can one explain the porcelain of Kageyama’s skin without sounding fucking poetic?_

  
_Who can explain the need in him to touch with unadulterated wanton?_

  
“ _-shima?_ Hey.”

  
Tsukishima had to blink a few times to rid him of the haze behind his eyes, to steady himself and the heat thrumming in his veins. When he came to, Kageyama was looking up at him, eyes frantic. He had been shaking Tsukishima out of it, it seemed, if the hands gripping onto the blond’s shoulders wasn’t evidence enough.

  
“Christ, you look like you were having a stroke.” Kageyama breathed out, tinged with a nervous laugh, “Don’t do that, yeah? I wouldn’t have known what to do.”

  
Tsukishima had something smart to say to that, but it died in his throat when he felt Kageyama’s hand slide from his shoulder down to his forearms, “Seriously, are you okay? Your face is all red.”

  
At that, Tsukishima jerked back to life, startling Kageyama as well. He felt hot, the surfaces of skin the dark-haired boy had touched even hotter.

  
“Hey—” Tsukishima shouldered past him and into the club room, effectively cutting him off.

  
Kageyama stood by the door, confused, as Tsukishima blindly grabbed at stuff without checking if he had left, or taken anything that wasn’t his.

  
“Are you okay?” the younger spoke again, and this time Tsukishima responded with a curt nod.

  
“I’m off.” Tsukishima mumbled, moving past Kageyama without another glance.

 

 

 .

 

 

Tsukishima was _god damn_ sure the deities hated him. They all despised him. This was punishment for being a smartass. For being pathetic.

  
There were so many ways it could have played out, like: he could have left his phone behind and wouldn’t give a shit, or how he could have grabbed his own belongings and went home in peace.

  
Instead, he realized in horror, that he took _Kageyama’s fucking phone_ with him.

  
It took a lot of curses and minutes for Tsukishima to work up the courage— what was he scared of?— to go back, and even then he had to stop at the base of the staircase just to _breathe_.

  
He had never felt anything like that spark he felt when Kageyama touched him, never felt anything like the ache in his chest when he saw Kageyama’s eyes look worried, never felt anything like the strong rumbling in his ears as he realized how close the brunet was to him, how soft the setter’s palms were against his skin.

  
_Get your shit together, Kei._

  
When he was standing in front of the club room, hearing no rustles inside, he had no idea why he felt disappointed. _Of course_ Kageyama would have left by then. There was no reason for him to stay longer than necessary. _Except maybe his missing phone,_ Tsukishima thought, _but his one-track mind probably never even uses it._

  
What greeted him when he opened the door was absolutely nothing he had expected.

  
There Kageyama was, wearing only his training shorts and looking like he was changing into a shirt. But that wasn’t what got Tsukishima awestruck.

  
It was the fact Kageyama’s eyes were purple.

 

 

.

 

 

When Kageyama was in his first year of elementary, he had asked his mother for a pair of contact lenses.

  
“It’s a gift.” His mother said about their eyes, “You don’t see anyone with these eyes around here. Why would you want to hide them, Tobio?”

  
Kageyama cocked his head to the side, eyebrows knitted together, “You hide yours, too, _okaa_.”

  
His mother laughed, kissing him on the forehead, “That’s because I never want anyone else to see me so naked.”

  
His frown deepened, now more confused than ever. With a wide grin, his mother sat him down at the dinner table, and told a story of a young girl with mauve eyes hidden under sunglasses, and a man who had noticed.

  
“Your eyes alone are enough for others to know the other surprises it brings.”

  
“Surprises?” Kageyama asked in awe. His mother nodded, smile unwavering as she wiped away a stray rice grain on his cheek.

  
“I… I don’t want others to see them!” he said after a bite of his food, “I only want _okaa_ to see them! And maybe my friends, too!”

  
His mother hummed, amused, “Alright, then. What color would you want your contacts to be?”

  
“Like yours! Maybe someone like _otou_ would want them off one day.”

  
“Only if they look closely.” His mother winked.

  
“Only if they look closely.” He repeated, laughing into his grubby hands.

 

 

.

 

 

“Your… your eyes—” Tsukishima _knew_ it. He knew it wasn’t just him overthinking.

  
“What are you doing here?” Kageyama asked, turning his head away, “I thought you left.”

  
He makes a show of putting his shirt on, and then looking for his shoes—anything that would mean not looking at Tsukishima. He seemed to be rummaging through his bag for something now, and the blond is positive what it was.

  
“Looking for this, King?” He grabbed the phone from his pant pocket, turning it in his hands. He closed the door behind him, leaning against it. Kageyama lifts his head only slightly, just enough to see what Tsukishima is referring to.

  
“Why do you— Give me that.” Kageyama snapped, approaching him in big, frustrated strides. His head was angled a little low so his bangs covered his eyes. _Smart_ , Tsukishima thought, _Just not smart enough._

  
When he got close, Tsukishima grabbed the setter’s wrist before he can take the phone, and pinned him back against the door. Tsukishima stepped closer, caging Kageyama in with both hands against the door. He swore he heard Kageyama’s breath hitch, saw the way his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

  
“King.” He said, a smirk on his face, “Look at me.”

  
“I don’t… why did you have to get me into this…”

  
Was the position making him nervous? Good. Tsukishima, too.

  
“You would’ve ran away. It was either this or tie you up. And you know I’m impatient.” A lie. Tsukishima would have slept inside that club room if it meant he was getting answers.

  
Kageyama stayed silent, head still looking down at their feet.

  
“We can stay like this all day if you want to, King.”

“I don’t know what you want. You’ve seen them already. They’re purple, _fine._ Can you let me go now?”

 _‘Never’_ was at the tip of Tsukishima’s tongue, and the realization made his heart throb painfully. _Shit_ , has he always been this pathetic? Tsukishima wanted to blame all of this on that damn observing nature of his. If he didn’t notice anything, he wouldn’t have cared.

  
Another lie. Tsukishima knew that even when he never saw these things, he’d still want this. Want _Kageyama._

  
“I’ve noticed them, you know. Even before today.” Tsukishima said, “I’ve been curious ever since.”

  
“Well, now you know. I don’t see the point—” Kageyama froze as a hand cupped his face, a thumb drawing gentle circles across his cheek.

  
“I’ve noticed how flawless your face is.” _And thought of how your skin would feel against mine._ Tsukishima slid his hand down to the base of Kageyama's neck, just by the collar of his shirt, “I’ve noticed how you never tan even after hours under the sun.” _I've thought of how beautifully unmarked your skin is and what I’d to to stain it._ He pushed the cloth aside to prove his point. No tan lines where they usually should be. No tan lines at all. The image of how pure Kageyama’s skin was left Tsukishima _aching_.

  
“S-stop.” Kageyama stammered, voice small. Tsukishima heard him force out a curse under his breath, making him feel just a little bit in control.

  
“What’s this? The King growing weak under a commoner’s eye?”

  
There it was. The baiting he needed to get Kageyama to lift his head up.

  
Kageyama’s violaceous eyes met his golden ones, and it held so much _feeling_ it made Tsukishima’s head spin just by staring.

  
“Just for you.” Kageyama breathed, eyes steady and unwavering. Tsukishima’s eyes widened, the words feeling like electricity shooting down all his veins, frying every end to leave him paralyzed.

  
Have they always been playing around each other’s feelings? From the start of all this?

  
A pregnant silence followed, them just staring at each other and looking for more in each of their eyes. The silence wasn’t awkward, as it would usually be during these situations— and something in Tsukishima clicked.

  
Familiarity.

The _thing_ he kept feeling around Kageyama. The thing that caused such a great shift in his and Kageyama’s relationship; from petty squabbles to banter, from awkward to _this_. Familiar.

A chuckle rumbled out of Tsukishima’s throat before he could stop it, dropping his arms to his sides and leaning forward to rest his forehead on Kageyama’s shoulder in defeat. _Fine, heart, you win._

Well shit. Who would have thought?

“Tsukishima?” 

“Just for me, huh?” The blond murmured, an easy smile on his face. He could hear Kageyama splutter something along the lines of _‘Well, what of it?’_ , making Tsukishima braver to test the waters. He tugged at Kageyama’s hips, bringing the setter forward and flush against him, and buried his nose at the crook of his neck. He waited for Kageyama to push him off, for a sign that he took it too far, for a feeling of uneasiness.

  
It never came.

With a wave of confidence, Tsukishima lifted his head up and touched his forehead to Kageyama’s. They blinked at each other, heliotrope clashing with honey, something like a challenge behind them.

“So,” Tsukishima started, hands finding solace just above the jut of Kageyama’s hipbones, “Why hide them?”

“I…” Kageyama croaked, throat tight at the proximity, “I didn’t want anyone else to see me so naked.” An echo of his mother’s words, words he understood now, anchored down by bright, gold eyes and hands on his clothed skin.

A smirk found its way to Tsukishima’s lips, “That’s pretty poetic.” He found satisfaction in the blush the brunet sported.

“Shut up. My mom told me that.”

“Did you understand what it meant, King?”

“Of course I did!” Kageyama pouted, eyes looking sideways, “People would know too much just by seeing my eyes. The surprises.” He looked back at Tsukishima, “Though I guess you noticed those first…”

Tsukishima was overwhelmed at that, to be honest. Everything he's noticed... Kageyama's been hiding? It left him just a bit more curious, and maybe looking into his eyes would provide answers.

He was distracted by the color of them instead, and all he found was how stunning they were, how pale the purple close to his pupils were, and how they darken as they spread into the rest of his irises. How long and thick his eyelashes were. Tsukishima brought a hand up to Kageyama’s face, tracing his thumb just below the smaller’s lower eyelid.

“Beautiful.” Tsukishima breathed out, head tilting slightly, their noses bumping, lips all but touching. Blood thrummed in Tsukishima’s ears, rushed violently to all his limbs like they were looking for an escape route from the sudden surge of heat. He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, watching as Kageyama took a shaky breath of his own, feeling Kageyama’s hand on his forearm.

The air around them was thick, not there to make them feel suffocated, but there to push someone to get a move on.

“Can I…” _Kiss you?_ Tsukishima wanted to finish, but his throat was suddenly dry, voice raw like he had been screaming for days. With Kageyama plastered against him like this, he might as well have been.

  
It seemed Kageyama heard the message behind it, though, because when he had it in him to huff out a word, it was a small, but clear “Please.”

  
Tsukishima's lips were on his in an instant. Kageyama's lips were soft, achingly so. They were hesitant, though, not knowing what to do. Throwing caution to the wind, Tsukishima pressed his lips firmer against Kageyama's. The brunet's fingers dug into Tsukishima's forearms, releasing a bated breath through his nose. The King's lips were slick against his own as the kiss deepened with every passing second, and Tsukishima found his hands crawling under Kageyama's shirt. His bare skin felt like it was on fire, and the taller wanted to touch and  _touch_.

One hand moved towards Kageyama's back, feeling the ripple of muscle under skin, tensing at his touch. Kageyama hummed into the kiss,  _or was that a moan?_ , and it had Tsukishima practically tugging at the raven-haired boy's lips, wanting to taste and  _taste_.

Kageyama opened his mouth, wanting to breathe, he needed to _breathe_ , but was surprised to find Tsukishima's tongue probing into his mouth, nudging at his own. They stayed like that, tongues sliding against each other and Tsukishima's blunt nails mimicking the patterns his tongue was making against Kageyama's back, until they pulled apart for air.

Tsukishima stared in awe at the wrecked look on Kageyama's face; lips pink, a sliver of spit on the corners of his mouth, and half-lidded eyes that spoke of more. Tsukishima landed one more searing kiss onto those lips and then hes moving down, planting butterfly kisses down Kageyama's jaw.

“Tell me.” He murmured, “Tell me about these _surprises_. Were there any I missed?” 

Kageyama shivered, “I don't get pimples. My face has always been free of them.”

“But maybe you just have good skin.” Tsukishima bit at his ear, loving the sound it drew out of the setter. “What else, King?”

“I... _hah_... don't get burned, no matter how long I stay under the sun. I feel it, but my skin doesn't tan.”

Tsukishima can imagine, just inches and inches of undisturbed, porcelain skin, "That's hot." And _okay_ , that wasn't supposed to come out, but it was out there and he can't take it back, not when he gets a whimper out of the boy. “Come on. What else?”

Tsukishima mouthed at his neck, licking at his jugular and feeling it pulse under his tongue.

“I don't have—Tsuki— _ahh_.... any body hair, other than what you see I have now.”

Tsukishima froze just as he was about to bite onto the juncture where Kageyama's neck is covered by his shirt. He lifted his head, and looked at Kageyama incredulously, “Seriously?” He _had_ noticed the lack of leg hair, and even pit hair, during practice, but Tsukishima chalked it up to Kageyama's probable habits of shaving.

Kageyama blushed furiously, “W-well, I guess so. I don't have arm or leg hair, or chest hair, or, um... you know. So...”

 _Shit, shit, shit_. Tsukishima closed his eyes shut, willing the images of a bare Kageyama on his bed, skin untouched by the sun, soft and smooth under his own calloused fingers, out of his mind, “ _Fuck_ , King. So fucking  _hot._ ” He groaned out, leaning forward and back to the task at hand as he bit into Kageyama's neck, raking his teeth up and down just to see the marks later, “You're driving me mad.”

Kageyama outright moaned, hands that held tight onto Tsukishima's forearms now moving up to tug at short, blond strands, “That's... that's it. That's all I know.”

It registered into Tsukishima's mind, why Kageyama made sure to keep his eyes a secret, understood what the setter's mother meant. The mere thought of anyone else thinking of Kageyama like he had been made his blood boil. “Okay.  _Good_. Keep them hidden.”

He moved back up to claim Kageyama's lips, watching the setter through lidded eyes. They finally pull apart, quite later, when both can feel an ache that has turned physical down south. Another silence envelops them, the only sound their heavy breathing. Tsukishima looked on at the mess of a person Kageyama was, all thanks to his mouth and hands, and declared to himself he wanted to see this more.

“Stingy— Tsukishima.”

“Yes, King?”

"Am I—... Are you—" Kageyama was cut off by a loud ringing, startling them both. Their eyes both land on Tsukishima's pocket, the material lighting up from under. Tsukishima fished it out and handed it to its owner.

“I believe this is yours.” Kageyama grabbed it and answered immediately before it can disconnect. It was short-lived: A greeting, a small conversation, and then a goodbye. Tsukishima mentally tacked a reminder to make sure their phone conversations consist of more.

And if that meant they'll be talking outside of school, then Tsukishima doesn't see any reason why not.

Kageyama cleared his throat to get his attention, as if it wasn't already on him, “It's kind of late.”

Tsukishima glanced out the small window, seeing nothing but black sky. “Guess it is. Your mom?” he asked, referring to the caller.

“Yeah. I, uh, told her I was on my way home when we went up here, but...well...” he let out a nervous laugh, “Got distracted.”

“Sorry.” Tsukishima hid the blush under his hand, pretending to cough. He moved to open the door, “Let's head home.”

Kageyama nodded, grabbing his bag and heading out, locking the door behind him. They were walking down the stairs, Kageyama trailing behind him now, when the setter grabbed the back of the middle blocker's shirt, stopping them both from taking another step. Tsukishima turned and raised an eyebrow.

“So, about what happened.” The dark-haired boy started, looking at him with those shy, purple eyes, "What are we now?"

Tsukishima stared long and hard at the beautiful boy before him, and can't resist the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. He grabbed the hand holding him by the shirt, hooked their pinkies together as he turned and walked forward, tugging at an awaiting Kageyama, “Each others.”

 

 

. 

 

 

Another story spread when they came back to the gym the next day.

Of how Nishinoya caught Tsukishima leaning forward to plant a kiss to both Kageyama's closed eyes out in the balcony of the club room.

They didn't deny it this time.

 

 

 .

 

 

_**Tsukishima Kei** _

_**21 Oct 9:11PM**_

_**You better be wearing your contacts tomorrow or I swear.** _

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Purple Eye Mutation or best known as Alexandria's Genesis. Probably a myth. Probably not. The thought of it is quite enticing, though.
> 
> (Lowkey envisioned Elizabeth Taylor as Tobio's mom, not going to lie.)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are (very) highly appreciated! ♡


End file.
